Tie Tradition
by beckendoof
Summary: Welkin Gunther is terrible with ties. Good thing he's always surrounded by people willing to lend him a hand. Welkin-centric. Anime-based.


A/N: this is all anime-based so I apologize for any inaccuracies/missing info. As for the rest, I did a lot of fudging and headcanon.

In other news, Welkin is probably my favo character and this whole fic was _probably _inspired by that flashback episode where Faldio was fixing up his tie for him (I forget which episode this is... 8? 9?)

**

* * *

Tie Tradition**  
_Valkyria Chronicles, Welkin Gunther  
_

Disclaimer: If it belonged to me, I would've played it by now. orz_  
_

* * *

The first one to show him was, oddly enough, his military instructor back in elementary. That was around the time training became mandatory for minors – _that's how bad the war's affected us, _his father had commented upon reading the letter from school. He had only the vaguest of ideas about what war was, and his then seven-year-old mind regarded it as a nuisance that got in the way of the things he wanted to do.

What did learning to tie a tie properly have to do with the military anyway?

.

The second person to take on the task was his mother, appropriately. She took him aside that time and laughed at his meager attempt, then loosened the disaster about his neck.

She said his father regarded the uniform as a symbol of his loyalty to the country. It was an important thing.

_You're young, my son, but remember, _she said softly, tugging at the last knot that finished off the tie, _your uniform is your life now._

She then brought him to the full-length mirror in her room and gripped his shoulders, smiling with pride.

_See how handsome you are…!_

In an act that became ritual, she dropped a light kiss on his head before shooing him off to school.

.

When his mother died, his father took over in a manner that suggested that he was trying to make amends. Welkin couldn't quite understand why this man, a great General in the army, was trying to apologize to HIM.

_I couldn't save her,_ the elder Gunther said, eyes bright as he looped one end of the tie around his son's collar.

He didn't know how to comfort the great man before him, so when the tie was finished, he did his best salute and promised to pay more attention to his military instructor, no matter that the man was as boring as a Scurian sloth at naptime. He was rewarded with a loud, ringing laugh and the memory of it pasted a silly grin on his face for the rest of the day.

.

After that one, intimate session, the rest were scattered and far between. Welkin often found himself having to make do on his own.

The reason for this was the new tenants his father brought in with him – a Darcsen man and his young daughter. _This man_, his father said, _is a great mechanic. He is helping me build something powerful for the army, but we can't let anyone know so we're doing it right here._

The way his father went on, it occurred to Welkin that whatever it was they were building was of vital importance to the war. Probably more important than tying ties. He tried his best to keep out of his father's way so as not to distract him. Unfortunately, his ability with ties never seemed to have improved – and worse, his military instructor had taken notice. He was already twelve, for Heaven's sake, he ought to have learned how by now, right?

He was in a panic over the punishment he'd been given – filling up the water tanks today, was it? – and fumbling with the disasterous knots he'd made that he didn't notice when a small, dark head stuck itself through the crack of the doorway, and observed him intently. Neither did he notice when the Darcsen girl came in, hesitantly at first, chewing her bottom lip. He only noticed, with much surprise, when two pale hands slapped his away and took over, and when he looked up, he saw her concentrating on the tie. Until then, the girl had avoided him and his numerous attempts to play with her.

_This is Isara,_ his father had said to him that first time he brought the Darcsen over, _Treat her like you would a sister, okay, Welkin?_

He tried to, but she never responded in kind – until now. And still a little awkward from the surprise, he didn't know what else to say except thank you and that she was so quick with her hands, much like a red-backed monkey when it is faced with fruit.

She looked at him strangely and went away, a reaction he was used to getting since his interest in biology had started entering in the way he spoke – but she came in regularly to tie his tie.

It wasn't long before his comments and talks of nature gained the ability to make her smile.

.

Isara worried from the day they found out that he was to attend University up to the day of his departure. His father laughed, taking her under an arm, and said he was a man now – he shouldn't need any help with his ties anymore.

_No, but he gets lazy,_ Isara said flatly. She had grown more outspoken as she got used to the Gunther home. _The military training at University is different from Bruhl's. Stricter. They will flay you alive if even your uniform is out of order. Right, father?_

Isara's own father had perished some time ago. Welkin's had taken her in as his own.

_Yes, that's right. _His father laughed again, this time ruffling his hair. _In that case, go find yourself a girl, son._

_Yes, and have her do your ties for you,_ Isara said in a tone that denoted an order.

He was, in truth, only paying them half his attention. It was the prospect of UNIVERSITY that occupied the front of his mind. Learning was something he found he was better suited to (compared to, say, the military). He wasn't even thinking of ties, but of the books and the classes and the _knowledge_ he'd gain.

Reality caught him by the nose when, during the very first day of Officer Candidacy, the instructor called him out and made an example out of him in front of the entire class.

And that was how he met Faldio.

_Fifty push-ups, Gunther. Yes, right _now_. Ugh, you cannot be the son of the famed General Gunther if you cannot even manage to put on that uniform right. LANDZAAT! Front and center! Make sure Gunther does his fifty then show him how it's done!_

Miserable from confusion – he didn't quite understand what mortal injustice he did to deserve the punishment (_it's just a _tie) – he went to one side of the field, and apologized profusely to the student who accompanied him. This student was taller than him, well-built, with golden-hair and eyes. He looked about the same age as he was, and he grinned widely when he finished his apology.

_No need, the old man was getting boring with his lectures anyway. You're Welkin Gunther? _He stuck a hand out and said, _Faldio Landzaat. I've been hearing rumors about you._

Welkin took the hand, and grinned ruefully. _The good kind, I hope?_

_Close. It's about that foreign exchange student. Is it true you approached her just to ask if you could draw her face?_

_Ah, Ms Carter! _ he recalled excitedly. _She has a rare kind of facial structure so I wanted to use her as a model. I got rejected though. _He could still feel the sting from the slap.

_Rare facial structure?_ Faldio seemed confused.

_Yeah, in the cheekbones, you know? She has ridges – _he traced arcs over his own flat cheeks – _you don't see that a lot around here._

_So you really just wanted to draw her face?_

A vigorous nod. _To show my father when I get back home. He's interested in that sort of thing._

Something changed in Faldio's face then; like at the beginning, it seemed like he was trying to work out some kind of complex mental puzzle, and it was only now that he'd untangled it. He laughed, a short bark that was not unlike his father's, and clapped a friendly hand on his shoulder.

_You're an interesting guy, Gunther._

Faldio, he learned later, was a man of double meanings. But whatever else he was insinuating by that phrase was lost on Welkin after a few moments in his company. He'd found a solid friend in Faldio.

And a new person to tie his ties for him.

.

University wouldn't last forever, he knew, but it ended far earlier than he expected. The Empire's Army was closing in, and Gallia was in sheer panic. As a result, all the young students of the University were to be sent back to their homes in order to prepare for the eventual attack.

Welkin had dreams of become a professor, so it was another unexpected surprise that he'd be thrust yet again into the military. He thought he was done with uniforms and protocol.

But with the destruction of Bruhl, he found that there was more to be done with them.

_Back to the military, huh?_ He was in one of those army cruisers, being brought to the nearest HQ. Isara was out back, driving the Edelweiss, the tank that their fathers had poured most of their time building. Both men were dead now, so they only had each other to depend on; the house they'd grown up in had been among the worse of the wreckage in the aftermath of the Imps attack.

Both he and Isara had done a great deal in driving their attackers away. It was simple strategy for Welkin, something that came as easily to him as his love for biology.

Commander Varrol said it was talent. That talent and his last name were what got him the commander's post of the 7th squad in the Militia.

_It's fate,_ Isara had said to him when she passed by his bunk to pay him a greeting. She was smiling as she looked at the folded clothes on his lap. _Another tie, brother? Rank will prevent me from coming up here so often._

And that was when his second-in-command came in.

Alicia Melchiott was also from Bruhl, and had, in fact, been a part of Bruhl's Patrol team during the time of the Imperial attack. They'd gotten off on the wrong foot, but Welkin had managed to work his way into her trust enough to have her help execute the plan that eventually drove off their enemies.

_Welkin, what are you doing? Get into your uniform already! The Commander called for a meeting ten minutes ago – or were you not listening?_

She had initially been shocked to discover that not only were they in the same military base, they were in the same squad – and he was to be her superior. She wasn't very fond of him, but she was something of an honest person. He took no offense when she bustled him into the bathroom to put on the uniform.

It was amazing how many times her expression changed when he came out.

_He's horrible with ties, Alicia. _Isara, plaintive, approached the other girl with her hands clasped together, under her chin. _I used to do it for him when we were little but now… Could you possibly help him for me? I can't come in here so freely._

It wasn't only because of rank. Isara's Darcsen heritage wasn't a welcome sight in these parts. She had orders to stay inside with the Edelweiss, and to not come out so much unless necessity called for it.

_He sucks with his ties, huh? Sounds like he'd be. Okay, you just leave it to me, Isara! _Alicia smiled.

And Isara smiled back. _I'll meet you two in the barracks then, after your meeting._

As his foster-sister left the room, he found himself being tugged forward by the strip of cloth around his neck.

_This is really bad, you know, Welk- ah, guess I should call you Lieutenant Gunther now, huh?_ Her fingers made quick work of the mess he'd made. Within moments it was untangled.

The use of title and last name felt both so impersonal and personal. It reminded him of his father… _I'd like it better if you called me 'Welkin', Alicia._

_Who said you could call me by my first name?_ The knot she tied nearly choked him. From vicious to sweet, she smiled and patted his chest. _There, you look presentable now, Sir. Shall we go before Commander Varrol has us on latrine duty for tardiness?_

Her mood swings were so erratic that he could not pause to make sense of them.

But hey, she could tie ties fairly well, and hadn't it been one of his father's requests to find a girl to do things like this for him?

* * *

**END

* * *

**A/N: ugh. Could've been better imo. Maybe I'll rewrite. Someday.(...)


End file.
